


Marked

by Aesthel



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blood, Breathplay, F/M, Pre-Rework Akali
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesthel/pseuds/Aesthel
Summary: Akali is paid a visit she will never forget about.





	Marked

Akali woke up to the feeling of something approaching her in her sleep. She jerked in a sitting position, her hands already reaching for her kamas over her shoulders in a primordial instinct to get ready to fight to defend herself, only to realise she wasn’t carrying them. She briefly rubbed her eyes and concentrated on her hearing only.

It was as dark as it could get, which was extremely odd. It was pitch black in fact, the moonlight that always shined through the wide window couldn’t penetrate the thick darkness surrounding her. A feeling of bone chilling dread started creeping up he spine. Something was definitely off. She reached for her kamas, but they were nowhere to be found. She used to keep them at reach even when she was resting, but they weren’t where she left them when she went to sleep. Alarmed, she got on her knees, ready to stand up, when something caught her attention: a pair of glowing red eyes staring at her right in front of her.

The entity was keeping its distance, but it was indeed fiercely observing her. She stared back, challenging its next move. She wasn’t going to be scared of something lurking in her room at night. She felt safe where she was, she was at home, and whoever dared to disturb her in her element was going to either explain itself, or to be fought off. She was ready to fight to defend herself with her bare hands. But then she blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, those glowing red eyes were only an inch apart from her face. Startled, she tried to react, but just an instant later a gloved hand connected with her throat, circling and squeezing it. She yelped, clawing her hands at the arm that was holding her. She felt a thick layer of fabric cladding a strong, muscular forearm, and hard, cold metal. A blade, maybe? No, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be…him.

“Zed.” she muttered quietly but fiercely. She wasn’t going to let him scare her.  
The grip around her throat tightened in response, it wasn’t enough to cut her breath, but it showed he had control of the situation. He didn’t say a word.  
“Go away. There is nothing for you here, brother. Don’t force me to fight you.” she said in a warning tone.  
Then he laughed. It was a slow, deep laugh, a laugh that promised many things, one worse than the other. It was dreadful, and that’s exactly what she felt, dread clinging to her bones. It was working some kind of spell over her mind and body, she started feeling weak and vulnerable, as though her will was being torn apart. He wasn’t going to leave her be, she knew he wanted something, and most probably he was going to take it, careless of her opinion. She just couldn’t grasp the reason why the Master of Shadows chose to torment her. His target used to be Shen only, he was overly obsessed over him. Then why was he there?

She stared right into those glowing red eyes, waiting. Then she saw it, a twisted light furiously burning deep inside them. She didn’t have the reflexes to react properly when suddenly the man dropped on one knee on her side, forcing her back on the futon. She was still gripping at his arm, trying to force him off her throat, without any success.  
“Get off of me.” she spat. She had no idea what was happening, but she was trying to stay calm and gather her strength. If he was going to try to kill her, she would’ve fought for her life. Most probably he would’ve won, he was armed while she wasn’t, but that wasn’t going to stop her.

She heard a very faint noise, like a slow hiss, right behind her. She looked up, and another pair of red eyes, although faded, stared back at her. The shadow reached for her hands, forcing them away from the man’s arm. She tried to resist, but she wasn’t strong enough. The shadow’s hands were latched onto her wrists, forcing them pinned to the floor on top of her head. She was trapped.

The hand that was on her throat vanished, now both of the man’s hands were pushing her knees down, straightening her legs. She then felt his weight on her thighs, trapping them as well. Then, suddenly, the white nightgown she was wearing was being tugged at, and a second later, the sound of metal cutting through fabric filled the room. The cloth was destroyed, a long, straight cut from her legs to her chest split it in two. She was suddenly extremely exposed, something she hadn’t calculated.  
Did Zed visit her only to humiliate her? She couldn’t see anything, not even her own body, but she was sure that the Master of Shadows could see perfectly in that artificial shroud of darkness he himself created.

He was still very silent, which irritated her. Only a faint, slow breathing could be heard coming from behind his metal mask.  
“What do you want from me? Be a man and fight me, this is ridiculous.” she growled. She couldn’t let fear take over her mind, she needed to stay focused.  
The man wasn’t going to listen to her, he wasn’t going to let her have a chance to defend herself.  
She felt one of his gloved hands touching her stomach, resting there, pressing down firmly, then the sting of a blade slicing through her skin. It didn’t cut deep, it was just a superficial cut, but it burned like hell. She was already covered in scars, one more didn’t matter, but she wasn’t going to let the man do whatever he pleased with her body.

After the first cut another one followed, and another one.  
“Stop. Let me go!” she yelled, infuriated, thrashing at the restraints. She could feel the blood oozing from the wounds, staining the remnants of her clothing.  
She heard a click, the blade retreating in its sheath.  
Then an excruciating silence followed. Nothing moved, no noise could be heard. She could hear herself letting out short and fast breaths, waiting.  
The next thing she heard was a deep, slow, terrible laugh resonating in her head. A feeling of dread took over her, she felt like something forced its way in her mind, marking her.  
The shadow’s hands on her wrists clenched harder, the man stood up letting her legs free only for a second, before another two pairs of hands grabbed her knees and pulled them apart, pinning them to her sides. Two more shadows.  
She was as exposed as she could ever be.

Then silence again, and she could feel the Master of Shadows kneeling again. A click, and a blade was on her again, cutting through the soft skin of her inner thighs, three cuts on the right one, three cuts on the left one. Warm, sticky blood rushed down, wetting her womanhood and dripping down her backside, staining the futon.  
As soon as she felt his mark in her head, she knew she wasn’t going to escape what he had in mind for her. He had drained all her will and strength from her. She still could feel the terror clinging to her bones, a small part of her mind still determined to defend herself screaming at her to stand up and fight. But she couldn’t.

She heard some rustling, and soon after the feeling of his hand, this time bare, touching the wounds on her right thigh, smearing the blood around, harassing the sensitive nerves on her skin to make the sting even more unbearable. The hand then started traveling down, collecting more blood on its way, and stopped right at the small entrance of her womanhood, without touching it, instead he let blood drip around and inside of it. His hand then retreated.  
More rustling, a small clink and this time she felt something different touching the wounds on her left thigh, something hard and warm. She felt his clothed hips connecting to the back of her thighs, and then she realised.

“No-!” she breathed. She wanted to scream for help, but she couldn’t. It was as though the darkness surrounding them was keeping them isolated from the rest of the world. Nothing could penetrate the thick shadows, no light or sound.  
The man didn’t react to her panic, instead he kept smearing blood all over his manhood. It took only a couple seconds before he was satisfied with the result, and guided himself to her entrance.  
She wasn’t given any warning before he pushed himself inside, ripping a startled cry from her lungs, her back arching from the pain.

The man let out a long hiss. She was tight, clenching around his generous girth really hard. She never had a man before, she was in pain.  
He pulled out before pushing back in, this time he didn’t stop until his hips were firmly pressed against her. He did it again, and again, and again. She could feel his length making its way inside her, the gross and horrible feeling of being possessed was unbearable.

“STOP!” she screamed, thrashing around.  
The man let out a wild growl and his gloved hand connected with her throat again, this time squeezing hard. She wheezed, hungry for air. She felt him lowering himself on top of her, and for the first time since he appeared, his low, terrible voice spoke.  
“Do not deny me.” a dark, sharp order resonated through his metal mask.  
Tears started rolling our of her eyes. She started feeling light headed, not enough blood could pass through his tight grip on her throat.  
Not in the least worried about it, he started moving again, his wide erection covered in her blood and natural fluids sliding in and out with ease.

She had no idea how much time passed before his movements became erratic and fierce. The hand on her throat was still there, and the lack of air in her lungs and oxygen in her brain was making every contact, every movement, every sensation ten times more intense. She felt completely destroyed.  
Suddenly, the man’s hips started jerking in short and fast thrusts, his other hand gripping at her thigh. She could hear his breaths coming out in short grunts, until with one last, deep groan his hips collided against her and he poured himself inside, filling her with his thick, warm load.  
Something in her head snapped. Still wheezing, she let out a desperate cry.  
She was defeated.

Suddenly, his hand was gone, and she started breathing again in deep, hungry gasps.  
She felt his manhood sliding out of her, and the rustling in his general direction told her he was stuffing himself back in his pants.  
The disgusting feeling of his essence oozing out of her entrance was humiliating, but it only lasted a few seconds before the rustling stopped and his bare hand caught what was dripping and sticked it back inside.  
“Don’t you dare getting rid of a single drop.” he growled warningly.  
Terrified, she clenched her muscles, trying her best to keep his load in. She was a quivering mess, covered in sweat, blood, tears, and sperm.  
“Pathetic.” he muttered after getting on his feet.  
She could feel the shadows that were keeping her in place fading away, and in a matter of seconds, she was free. The darkness started slowly sliding out of her room, leaving her alone and devastated.  
And just like that, the Master of Shadows was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Just pointing out the obvious, he put his ‘Death Mark’ on her, though he didn’t kill her, he just destroyed her in other ways. ^^ 
> 
> I just finished writing this one, the inspiration came out of nowhere and I’m not even sure it’s decent. It’s the first time I post a story here and I hope I didn’t make a mess. Also, English isn’t my first language so please, bear with me. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> EDIT: This is pre-rework Akali


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